apple is apple

There was a chap in Calcutta back in the late 1980s who insisted that all religions were ‘the same’. He’d often say over and over: ‘apple is apple – one apple one god’. It seemed profound at the time, and I wished I’d remembered that today when I was giving a talk at Columbia University Ethnomusicology department (I’m not 100% sure that is the official name of the dept -thanks Tylor for organising – do see their mag Current Musicology). The issue at stake was whether comrade Aki Nawaz saw himself as some sort of representative of Muslim youth. I think not, even if Aki has been known to say stuff like ‘Islam is a more serious kind of punk’, its not always necessary to mark everything out in terms of the mainstream gut-reaction oppositions of the day, even so Fun^da^mental can speak as often from a ‘Muslim perspective’ as from any other. I see no problem with that given the amount of time, say, the Police are not asked if they are speaking from the perspective of the forces or order, I mean as Christians. I mean, isn’t that what keeps Sting going, despite all the Buddhist claptrap he is want to spout for sales purposes? (I know I know, that is hardly fair – ah well – but their reforming and playing here just means they are deserving some degree of lampooning. That old story of Burroughs, when introduced to the band, telling his friends to get rid of any gear they might be holding, still deserves a wry smile).

Speaking at Columbia was fun, in a well-kitted out room (projector, sound, stereo system all working flawlessly). Suffice to say the discussion was engaging, and had much to do with relative degrees of irony in politics (the talk was about hip hop and politics in the UK – surprise). Discussion helped along by Charity Scribner and David Graeber (soon joining Goldsmiths), an interesting PhD candidate called Tim, Stephanie the super-assistant, and of course the wonderful Sherilyn. We then repaired to 20-10 (??) for drinks, baseball, the worlds largest pizza slices, and disturbingly potent free drinks from the barman also called Tim (who seemed to like playing Steve Miller songs much more than is reasonable).

Before having to trek back uptown to retrieve a key to Charity’s flat because I had mixed up the originals I had cut this morning (for a dollar), I found this charming mark (see picture) someone had written in the concrete near the corner of Christopher St and 7th. Awwwww. How idealistic and romantic is that? No initials, no slogan – though this pavement mark was alongside a wallposter which read: ‘Slow down and smell the Garbage – NY easy’. Says a lot I think, in these humid summer days. I can hear Frank singing something about the city having been named twice or something.

On to High Falls.